


don't you hear me howling

by theamazingpeterparker



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Childhood Friends, Human Liam, Human Niall, M/M, Moving, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 08:03:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4599066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theamazingpeterparker/pseuds/theamazingpeterparker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Liam turns and looks at him for a while. A scruffy, sleep-warm Louis Tomlinson curled up in a Star Wars blanket, asking what’s for breakfast after a night of running around the upstate forests. Werewolf or not, Liam had almost forgotten what a goddamn menace Louis Tomlinson was.</i>
</p><p>Louis has seen <i>An American Werewolf in London</i> enough times to know that city living isn't an ideal lifestyle for a new werewolf. He moves back home to find that Liam never left.</p>
            </blockquote>





	don't you hear me howling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dramaturgicallycorrect](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dramaturgicallycorrect/gifts).



> what have i gotten myself INTO WITH THIS FIC !!! i can't believe that kate gave me like, three other Substantial, Legit Prompts that i could have picked and i latched onto werewolves without any hesitation. because....werewolves.  
> which means that i literally owe this ENTIRE THING to [sharon](http://http://archiveofourown.org/users/justaboat/). what a fuckin Champ she has been through this. I had trouble starting and sticking to this fic but she had my back the WHOLE WAY THROUGH, didn't have any regrets or shame discussing a werewolf lilo fic with me. shes probably one of the best people in this entire galaxy.  
> this is for kate because i Love Her and i have never written lilo and u have to try everything at least once, right, etc. kate is literally worth Way More than this fic turned out to be but,,,,,,,i tried. so. woohoo  
> title is from "it will come back" by hozier, which i probably listened to ~1000 times while writing this

:::

It’s been years since Louis has felt this cold, and it bites into his shoulders, threatens to keep gnawing until he gives up his skin. Shrugs his jacket tighter and pops his trunk, glares up at the warm cabin that’s waiting for him. He’d gotten used to winters in the city, which were still pretty fucking cold, but at least there was still the hot, rotten steam of the subways, the warmth of other bodies around him on the street. Christ, he can’t believe he’s back here.

He doesn’t have that much stuff, three trips from the car to the front door. Has a whole house to himself for the same price that his tiny apartment in Harlem had been and it just feels. Overwhelming. It’s not the same house he grew up in but it feels similar enough, with the warm, rustic furnishing and open rooms that his childhood home had, just a few miles across town. He can’t figure out the thermostat with his fingers trembling so hard, resorts to sitting in front of the fireplace with every blanket he can find wrapped around him.

He doesn’t make it through the night. It’s almost three when he wakes up sweating, still surprised and dreading it but he knows enough to get outside, makes it to the back door. He’s cursing until he can’t anymore, stumbling onto the ground. It’s the worst thing he’s ever felt, trembling on all fours and feeling like he’s about to vomit. He squeezes his eyes shut until the retching-feeling passes, tries to repeat _I’m Louis I’m Louis I’m Louis I’m Louis_ like a prayer but then he’s gone.

:::

It’s a week before he decides to go into town, sitting in the parking lot of Walmart for ten minutes before working up the guts to go in. Saranac Ave has changed a lot in thirteen years, built up to be even more touristy than he remembers, twice as many bars and resorts but the corner store is still here, The Bookstore and Coff E Bean unchanged from how he remembers them. He gets out of his car, locks it behind him out of habit even though it’s hardly necessary in this town. He hopes he doesn’t see anyone he knows, but that part seems inevitable.

He still doesn’t know what he needs. The house is empty and he wasn’t exactly given a _How To Be a Werewolf_ handbook, ends up winging it. Bread, milk, eggs, and painkillers go into his cart first, followed by cigarettes, a baseball bat and new bedsheets; a space heater and an axe and socks. By the time he makes it around the store he’s just throwing shit into his cart, has no idea how to live on his own, is probably going to die as soon when he runs out of ramen and beer--

“Louis?” he hears from the end of the aisle and that’s impossible. Having only been here a week nobody knows he’s back. But he hears it again, “Louis Tomlinson?”

He doesn’t recognize Liam, not at first. No longer the short, curly-haired cherub that Louis grew up harassing on the playground. Not that Louis expected him to still look ten years old, but just. He didn’t expect him to look like _this_. Louis isn’t staring.

“Louis,” Liam repeats with a smile, coming closer. Louis can literally only look at the bag of bird feed tucked under Liam’s arm; Liam’s tattooed, tan, muscled arm. What the fuck. Holds out his free hand that Louis reaches out blindly to shake, lets his palm linger against Liam’s longer than it probably should have. “Liam Payne.”

Liam’s smile only gets wider, pulling his hand back, scruffs it through his hair. “I haven’t see you in, what, twelve years? Thirteen?”

“But who’s counting, right,” Louis quips, but offers the best smile he can back, feels his neck flush and looks down at his cart. There’s about twenty packs of ramen, an axe, and a box of condoms sitting on the top pile of his cart. Louis makes a mental note to pick up some matches and gasoline so he can light himself on fire as soon as he gets home.

When he looks up, Liam’s giving Louis’s cart a quizzical look, eyebrows raised but still smiling and asks, “So...what are you doing back in Lake Placid?”

Louis shrugs, reaches over to the shelf next to him and drops a bag of Fritos on top of the condoms and ramen in his cart; he doesn’t even like Fritos. “I, uh. I’m moving back here, for a while.”

Liam nods like he’s considering this and shrugs. “The Big Apple proving to be too much for you?” He waves to Louis’s cart. “You might want to get a snow shovel. City slickers like you usually forget how bad the winters are here.”

Louis snorts, leaning his elbows on his cart and rolling it forwards a bit. “Nobody calls it the Big Apple, Payno. I think _I_ proved to be too much for the city, really.”

Liam rolls his eyes and Louis’s breath feels caught in his throat. He wants to tease Liam just like third grade again but he can’t find _anything_ to tease him about, not his stupid hair or stupid shirt with the collar unbuttoned or his stupid smile or the stupid bird feed he’s buying. “So what are _you_ up to? Still living here?” Louis asks, half as a common courtesy and half hoping that Liam says something really fucking dumb so Louis will have an excuse to make fun of him.

“I coach the youth football team when I’m not in school,” Liam replies and when he looks up Louis glances away, hopes it doesn't look like he was staring at Liam but they both know that he was. “Classes at NCC and then coaching on weekends, pretty much. I’m hoping to get a job in Albany in a year or two, after I get my degree.”

Louis nods. He hardly heard anything Liam said but he doesn’t really know what to say next. _Hey, so, I haven’t showered in like five days and I ran through the woods as a wolf last night. This is just a lot for me right now. You smell really good. I think I’ve missed you._

“Good for you, Liam,” Louis finally says, and it sounds like he’s admitting defeat. Liam grins, eyes and nose scrunching up, looking just like he did when he was little, when Louis would make him laugh.

Liam gives Louis’s cart one more look then holds up a hand, already starting to walk away, “Well, listen, if you need any help moving in or anything, just let me know… I’m sure we’ll run into each other again soon, you know? It was great seeing you, Tommo.”

The old nickname slips out his mouth easily, like there hasn’t been thirteen years and three hundred miles between them. Louis smiles against his will, gives Liam a little salute. He can’t even come up with a parting joke; just watches Liam walk back down the aisle, turn the corner, and then he’s gone.

:::

The house feels a little less empty with food and things in it, but Louis still feels like he’s on a different planet. Can’t sit on the porch because it’s too cold, and he can’t sit in the house because everything echoes and hurts his ears. He ends up sitting in his car for half an hour, scrolling around on his maps app trying to find anywhere that’s open past, like, eight. He ends up just driving for a while, getting used to what it’s like to drive down these streets in a car and not on his bike. Winds up at the only pub and brewery that’s open until midnight, sulking at the bar and crushing peanut shells under his palm. He misses the city; it’s hard to talk to people here, hard to blend in. And it’s kind of hard to not feel sorry for himself, to not be bitter about the hand he’s been dealt. It could have been anyone but it ended up being him who hooked up with some strange, pretty boy at some shady dive in Jersey, blacked out and woke up in the woods. He turned twice in his apartment in Harlem, woke up to teeth and scratch marks all over the furniture and floor but no recollection of any of it. He finally googled _werewolf_ and put the pieces together, understood enough about this, has seen _An American Werewolf In London_ enough times to understand that he couldn’t continue living in the city. The only place he could think to go was back home, the vast forests that he never liked but he thinks he needs now. The necessity of the woods doesn’t make them any less terrifying.

:::

Louis is in the library and can feel eyes on him, but when he looks over his shoulder the lobby is empty. Just one kid leaning over the circulation desk, talking to the man behind the counter. Louis turns back to the shelf, glances down at the scrap of paper in his hand. It took him all morning sitting in Starbucks and leeching off their wifi and sifting through shitty forums to get this list, and the library doesn’t have any of them. Not that he’s surprised.

“Uh, sir?” The man behind circulation calls down the aisle. Louis glances over his shoulder, sees him looking at him. “Do you need any help?”

Louis looks up at the shelf and down at the list in his hand one more time, hopelessly, mutters _fuck it_ and walks out of the aisle and over to the circulation desk. The kid who was leaning over the desk earlier is now sitting up on the counter next to the computer, watches Louis approach with curious green eyes. The guy behind the desk is just as attractive, striking gold eyes and a pleasant smile when Louis reaches him. “Do you, uh.” Louis hands him his list. “Have any of these? Or anything related?”

The man takes the list and exchanges a look with his friend and Louis feels himself blush, “It’s research. Writing a paper.”

The green-eyed man tries and fails to hide his laugh as a cough but the man behind the desk just smiles tightly and shakes his head, hands the list back. “We don’t have a very wide collection for folklore,” he says. He looks Louis in the eye and it’s a little unnerving, like he knows something Louis doesn’t. “If you’re interested in local wolf populations, though, we have a great map collection of state parks and forests in this area.”

Louis takes his list back, thanks the man and moves to wander back towards the textbooks. This time, he feels the two men’s eyes on him the whole walk down the aisle.

:::

He hikes the trails first as a human, hasn’t been for a real run ever in his human life but he figures now is as good a time as any to start. He needs an excuse to map out these woods anyway, feels like they’re scarier than they were when he was ten. He sets off down the trail before he loses his nerve, cranks up the volume on his iPod until his ears are buzzing with it. He doesn’t know how long he runs but it starts to feel familiar, sneakers don’t fall as well on the ground as paws do but it’s the same rush after a while, far enough into the woods that he can’t see any houses or roads in the distance. He takes his headphones out when he stops at a river, can only hear his own heartbeat and sounds of the woods around him. He’s so far out he can’t even hear the highway.

A twig snaps, too loud to be anything but human. Louis is on his feet immediately, spinning to look for the source of the sound but he doesn’t see anyone. It makes his skin crawl and for the first time since getting here he almost wishes he was a wolf, feels too vulnerable as Human Louis. He doesn’t move until he’s convinced himself that he imagined it, heads back home without his headphones in this time.

:::

“Were you in the woods the other day? Off of Jackrabbit Trail?” the same man at the circulation desk asks when Louis brings back his books of upstate New York maps a few days later. Today the man is wearing a nametag that says _Zayn_. His friend is behind the desk, spinning in a seat next to him.

Louis eyes him warily. “Was that you that I heard? By the river?”

Zayn shrugs. “You probably heard Harry,” he replies, nodding sideways to his friend in the spinny chair. Harry grins.

“Is that, like.” Louis frowns. The pair hardly seems like the hiking type. “Why were you out there?”

Zayn leans back, hooks his arms behind his head and opens his mouth, running his tongue along one of his canine teeth, like he’s about to let Louis in on a secret. “We go out there because--”

“--Zayn likes to smoke out there,” Harry butts in before Zayn can finish and the two of them exchange a look, something Louis can’t even read and then Zayn looks back over at him and says, “yeah. We’ll try not to intrude next time, though.”

:::

There’s only one pizza place in town, the same place Louis and Liam would spend their Friday nights at as kids. Louis doesn’t know why he’s surprised to see Liam here tonight but there he is, lounging in a corner booth laughing into his drink’s straw. He’s with a girl.

Well, a girl and two other guys, but the girl is tucked under his arm picking at a slice of pizza. All four of them seem like they’re having a good time and Louis has never been one to pass up a good time.

“Liam! Buddy. Pal,” Louis boasts loudly, approaching the booth. He doesn’t recognize Liam’s friends or the girl, but slides into the end of the booth next to Liam anyway. Plants his elbows on the table. “You’re having Friday pizza at Mr. Mike’s and you didn’t invite me?”

If Liam’s surprised he doesn’t show it, aside from a quick, confused look that melts into a warm smile rather quickly, “Didn’t have your number, Tommo. You’re free to help yourself. Uh.” he waves a hand around the table at his friends. “This is Andy, John, and Hannah,” he introduces quickly, all three of them looking a little confused but Louis gives them a small wave and squirms in his seat a bit. It’s only quiet for a few more moments before Andy starts talking about sports, or something, Louis doesn’t know, not listening, just staring steadily at the side of Liam’s face until his friend turns to him and Louis has his full attention.

“Do you need something?” Liam asks with a small, cheeky grin and Louis exhales dramatically, “I thought you’d never ask.”

Liam waits patiently, eyes never leaving Louis’s face, even when Hannah tries to pull Liam into their conversation. Louis takes a sip from Liam’s drink; root beer, his favorite since he was ten, “Do you know a Zayn? Or a Harry? Zayn works at the library?”

Liam snatches his drink away, and hums. He’s going to make Louis wait for his answer. Louis squints and Liam hums a second time, opens his mouth and pulls his straw between his lips and takes an obscenely long drink. “I’ve seen them both around. I think they’re from New England, or something, I’ve never really talked to them. They kind of keep to themselves. Why?”

Louis pouts and replies, “no reason,” as he reaches over to Liam’s plate, plucks up his last bit of crust. Liam doesn’t take his eyes off of him as Louis sets the bread between his teeth. He takes long enough to eat it that all four people at the table are staring, now. Hannah presses herself closer into Liam’s side but Liam doesn’t take his eyes off Louis, earnest and patient, clearly waiting for Louis to finish this little charade.

“That was mine,” Liam finally deadpans when Louis is finished the pizza crust and Louis grins tightly, slaps Liam’s shoulder and gets up.

“Alright. Well, thanks, Liam. And folks,” Louis adds as an afterthought, giving Liam’s friend a wave. He can feel them watching him his whole way out of the restaurant.

:::

He decides to run the same Jackrabbit trail as a wolf, the first time he’s changed himself without the full moon or cold, wants to test out an old trail with his new body. Louis is shrugging out of his skin just as he hears him, turns to see Zayn standing at the edge of the clearing just as Louis’s vision desaturates. His human brain slips soon after and he bares his teeth, takes a step back. He recognizes Zayn, kind of, but there’s some kind of new authority that rolls off the man in waves, something that has Louis lowering his belly to the ground.

“Oh, Louis,” Zayn sighs softly but Louis hears it from fifty feet away, flicks his ear. He doesn’t quite know what to _make_ of all this but he doesn’t want to run and can’t bring himself to charge the man so he waits. There’s another sound that makes Louis flinch and then a new smell and a large, lean wolf emerging from the trees behind Zayn. Zayn rests a hand on the wolf’s head and the animal leans into his side, tall enough that its ears brush Zayn’s hip.

Louis can’t put this together, not now. He can still feel himself quivering at the panic of being seen, takes another step back and darts off into the woods, ears flicking backwards when he hears a bark and a laugh from the clearing.

:::

The next time he sees Zayn and Harry the two of them are wrapped around each other in the library lounge, squished into a big beanbag chair. Zayn’s got a stack of books on the floor next to him and Harry’s napping on his chest, both of them looking as worn out as Louis feels. He’s been lurking through the aisles for fifteen minutes, only has a book about the moon under his arm when Zayn catches his eye, pipes up, “we’ve been looking for you.”

Louis doesn’t get it, lingers at the edge of the last aisle and the little lounge that Zayn’s in. Harry stirs, squints up at Louis and gives him a sleepy smile. “Hi, Louis.”

Zayn waves Louis over, gesturing to the empty beanbag chair across from him and Harry. “Can you sit, please? And not run away this time?”

Louis only sits out of spite. He feels like he’s intruding on something at first, the way Harry’s hand is splayed across Zayn’s hip and he’s got his head tucked under Zayn’s jaw. Zayn doesn’t seem bothered at all, cards a hand through Harry’s hair and settles his amber gaze on Louis.

“How did you know? “ Louis breathes. Zayn smiles down into Harry’s hair, lifts a shoulder in a shrug best he can with a lanky boy sprawled on top of him. “We kind of have a knack for this kind of stuff.” Harry nudges Zayn with his head and Zayn hums, doesn’t take his eyes off Louis. “We could show you, if you want.”

:::

Louis gets a job at the Adirondack Corner Store as a busboy. He usually gets off his shift smelling like soap and grease but at least the kitchen is always warm and he keeps busy, hasn’t felt unsafe in his skin yet here so he counts it as a success. He’s just winding down from his shift, coming out of the back to hang up his apron when the door to the diner chimes and Liam walks in, smiling broadly as soon as he sees Louis. He’s surrounded by a gaggle of kids, asks the hostess for a table for seven and sends the kids to follow her. Liam leans on the counter and waves a vague hand around. “You work here?”

Louis smirks at him while he wipes the counter around where Liam’s elbow is planted. “Are you stalking me, Liam? At my place of work?”

Liam rolls his eyes and pushes away from the counter. “It’s a small town, remember?”

Louis hums, ignores Liam for a few moments until he realizes that the man is hovering. “Did you stalk me at my place of work to _ask_ me something, Payno?”

Liam blushes but fishes his phone out of his pocket, offers it to Louis. “Was just wondering, you know. If you wanted to catch up sometime. Or if you still needed help like, moving in or whatever.”

Louis tucks his dishrag away and plants his palms on the counter, leaning forward and squinting at Liam. “Did you stalk me at my place of work to ask me --”

“Lou!”  Liam interrupts but he’s laughing, crinkly-eyed and loud. “Can I just get your number, please? I have six rowdy ten year old football players to feed right now.”

Louis taps a finger against his lips thoughtfully but Liam nudges his cellphone closer and Louis finally breaks, smiles as he taps his contact into Liam’s address book. Liam thanks him, promises to keep in touch as he turns to walk down the aisle and Louis tilts himself over the edge of the counter to admire Liam’s ass as he walks away. The whole exchange is worth it for the smile Liam gives him just before he goes back to his table and orders his football players a round of milkshakes.

:::

Zayn’s magnificent as a human and even more so as a wolf, melts into it in a way that Louis almost envies while he’s shaking out his fur, dark brown in the sunlight. He’s leaner than Harry, small and lithe in comparison when he trots over to Harry and nips playfully at him. Harry’s stockier, mottled brown and gray and rolls over easily when Zayn nudges at him. They both look over expectantly at Louis and he wraps his arms around himself, tugs off his shirt and adds it to the pile of clothes next to Harry’s bicycle. He’s still awkward with the shift, drops roughly to the ground and twitches into it but as soon as he opens his eyes Zayn and Harry come bounding over, wide, toothy smiles and Zayn nuzzles against the side of Louis’s face.  There’s no verbal communication, no telepathy but Louis understands to follow them, lets out a grateful huff into Harry’s ear and the two of them press close to Louis before darting playfully away. It feels like a friendship he’s had for years.

:::

There’s something about running with them. Zayn and Harry as humans are almost unbearable but Louis thinks that he understands that need for contact now because it’s so easy as a wolf. Harry biting at Louis’s ears as soon as they’ve all changed and Zayn jostling shoulders with both of them. It’s not exactly a real wolf pack with just the three of them but it feels like it could be, from the books Zayn has given him. Louis feels like he could live like this, like Lake Placid isn’t so unbearable, like he’s ten years old again with new trails to find and friends to make. They run along the edge of the lake, off the trails, and he feels like he’s on top of the world.

He doesn’t want it to end but Zayn and Harry are already pulling their sweatpants and hoodies back on, Zayn stoking their small fire while Harry lays out a blanket. And Louis...doesn’t want to be human again. He doesn’t want to sit here with them and watch Harry drape himself over Zayn while Louis sits alone, hasn’t been that physically close to any other human in months. He lays across the campfire from Zayn and Harry, nose between his paws. Harry tried to coax him back to a human with a slice of pizza but Louis just snapped at him, grabbed the piece and gnawed on it for a while while Zayn watched him. “Just leave him, Haz,” Zayn finally said, pulling Harry’s head into his lap and the two of them scroll through something on Zayn’s phone, sitting in silence. Louis watches them for a while, huffs a sigh and Harry laughs, opens one of his arms towards the wolf. “Come ‘ere, Lou.”

Louis flinches at his voice but stands up slowly, slinks over and lowers himself over Zayn and Harry’s legs. Zayn laughs softly, shaking his head and muttering something about _can’t believe you decided to move back upstate in the winter time_. Zayn works his fingers through the soft spots behind Louis’s ears and Harry buries a hand into the thick fur between Louis’s shoulder blades. “Hey,” Zayn whispers and Louis flicks an ear at him. “Let us help you, babe,” Zayn murmurs and Louis huffs, nuzzles his face into Zayn’s hip as a silent _okay_.

:::

Louis starts going on walks. Used to walked a lot when he lived in the city, drunk or restless and not ready to go home yet. It’s not as easy to mindlessly wander here; the streets aren’t gridded neatly and the main drag of the town is only two miles long, running along the lake.

He ends up in the neighborhood he grew up in as a kid. Liam still lives close, across from the playground and Louis sinks onto one of the swings and kicks at the dirt with the toe of his sneaker. The sun is creeping through the trees and he can see his breath frosting in the air around him but he’s not cold. He’s just fucking restless and the creaking of the swing’s chains hurts his ears. He puts his focus across the street on Liam’s house, though, one of the upstairs lights on and he sees Liam’s silhouette pass in one of the windows. Five in the morning and it’s the only house on the block that’s lit.

Louis is still on the swing when Liam’s front door opens and the man steps out, shuts the door behind him and fiddles with his phone for a moment on the front porch. He’s in a hoodie and sweats, looks like he’s about to go for a run when he looks up across the street and sees Louis. He frowns, raising a hand in a tentative wave and Louis stands up, shrugs his jacket closer around himself.

“Louis?” Liam calls gently, jogging across the street and walking up onto the playground. His face is creased with concern and Louis stuffs his hands deep in his pockets. “Are you alright?”

Louis shrugs and rubs his face. He feels too on edge to make a joke. “Just had a late night,” he replies slowly, making sure his mouth forms the right words, “couldn’t sleep, so.”

Liam nods like he understands, tugging his hood up over his head. “Can I tell you a secret?” he asks, grinning. He doesn’t wait for a reply, just walks over and sits on the swing next to Louis. “I drank my first beer with Nick under that jungle gym,” he says conspiratorially, nodding to the rusted structure a few yards away from them, “We were...fifteen, I think. And I just remember thinking, like,” and Liam laughs and puts his chin in his hands, “it felt like something I should have been doing with you, you know? But you were off in the big city and left me here with shitty rednecks and lukewarm cans of PBR.” He doesn’t sound bitter and Louis huffs a laugh, twists in his swing a little to kick at Liam’s shin.

“I’m back now, aren’t I?” Louis finally says, “I guess I owe you a drink, then.”

He and Liam sit and talk until the sun is up and other houses on the street start waking up. Liam tells him about what he missed through high school, his first girlfriend, his first touchdown, how his team won the state championships his senior year. Louis tells Liam what he can about New York without bragging, about his favorite bar three blocks from his apartment and his professor at NYU who he got high with over winter break. Liam doesn’t ask why Louis moved back to Lake Placid but Louis almost wants to tell him. Almost feels like he could just say it right now, _I went to a shady party in Jersey, hooked up with some guy and woke up in the woods, ruined my apartment the first full moon and I didn’t really want to come back here but I knew I had to._ Instead he twists his swing to the side and gives Liam a small smile, “Thanks, Liam.”

Liam pouts and shrugs back, gets up off his swing and puts one earbud in. “Glad you’re back, Lou,” he says as he makes his way to the sidewalk. Something feels warm and tight in Louis’s chest and he has to swallow a few times over the lump in his throat before he calls back, “Me too, Liam. I’m glad you’re still here.”

:::

The first snow comes in the middle of November and Louis still hasn’t bought a snow shovel.

 _Hey_ he texts Liam the morning he wakes up to his car buried under a few inches of snow and ice, _do u have a shovel._

Liam shows up an hour later with two shovels, a smug grin on his face but he doesn’t tease Louis about being unprepared. They clear the driveway in no time, Liam’s fingers and his nose are bright red and he’s only got a leather jacket on, his hood and scarf pulled up over his face but Louis is wrapped in every sweater he could fit on and _still_ felt fucking freezing. Liam tugs his scarf down and smiles when the driveway is done, “you got coffee?”

“ _That_ I have,” Louis says back and he’s absurdly proud of himself for at least having coffee, leads Liam inside. They drip ice and snow all the way through the kitchen but Louis doesn’t mind, stripping off his layers while he waits for the coffeemaker to warm up until he’s just down to his boxers and t-shirt. Liam’s unwrapped his scarf and his hair is all matted and curling at the front from the melted snow and he blows into his hands while sitting at the table. Louis is about to suggest Liam throw his wet clothes in Louis’s dryer when his phone buzzes.

 _You should come out with us today_ from Zayn but it sounds more like a demand than a request.

 _i’m busy_ Louis taps back as he dumps a few scoops of coffee into the machine. Liam is tinkering with the empty salt and pepper shakers on the table.

 _smoking and sitting in front of your fireplace does not count as busy x_ Zayn replies. Louis ignores him and he gets five minutes of radio silence. He’s just settled across the table from Liam with mugs of coffee and a box of Chips Ahoy! when he gets another text, Harry this time,

_Louis ! Get ur butt over here. I want to play in the snow before it melts._

Liam politely ignores the fact that Louis is texting and dips one of the cookies into his coffee. “You can keep the extra shovel,” he pipes up eventually. “You’re probably going to need it.”

 _Louis ! Pleaaaaase come over_ from Zayn.

“Would you be mad if I had to run out somewhere?” Louis asks sheepishly after three more similar texts from Zayn and Harry and it’s the first time Liam looks a little surprised.

“Uh...no, not at all. I’ve overstayed my welcome anyway, I suppose,” he says with a light laugh and stands up, moving into the kitchen to put his mug in the sink.

“It’s not...My friends, they’re just...persistent,” Louis finishes lamely but Liam waves a hand. He smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes and Louis knows that he’s disappointed, even if he doesn’t show it.

“Lou, seriously, it’s fine. I was going to head home and take a shower, anyway,” Liam chirps, wrapping back up in his scarf and hood. “I’ll see you around, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Louis finishes quietly, watching Liam march down the newly-shoveled driveway to his truck. He wants him to stay.

:::

“I thought you hated humans,” Louis manages through gritted teeth and he sees Zayn roll his eyes from the front seat, “Niall’s different,” is all he replies with, takes a sharp left off of Cascade Ave. and pulls into the parking lot of Lake Placid Animal Hospital.

“Wait, wait, shouldn’t we be going to a _hospital_ hospital, Zayn, what--”

“Shut up,” Harry says brightly, offers Louis his shoulder to help him out of the car. “Niall will fix you right up. Best doc I know.”

There’s a pug and a great dane in the lobby who both perk up curiously when the three of them come into the lobby, Zayn leaning over the counter and muttering something to the receptionist and Harry helps Louis sit on the waiting room bench. “Look,” Harry mutters as Zayn comes back over, sits on the opposite side of Louis and gives his shoulder a squeeze. Harry’s rolling up his sleeve to reveal a silvery, thin scar that runs across his forearm, through the stem of his rose tattoo. “When we were twenty, a friend of mine got drunk and we wanted to see if silver would really hurt us, right? Like, pulled up wikipedia pages on werewolf myths just to see if any of them were true. He just laid a silver spoon across my arm. It burned like a bitch, had to call Niall and he patched my drunk ass up in the middle of Zayn’s kitchen.”

Harry’s voice takes Louis’s mind off the pain in his shoulder, listens to two more stories about an incident with Wolfsbane and another night trying to make their own moonshine before one of the exam rooms open up and a man with blonde hair and a white doctor’s coat steps out.

“Louis?” he asks and Zayn and the vet exchange some secret smirk as Harry helps Louis up, guides him into the tiny room. Niall leans against the counter as the three of them crowd into the small room, sets his clipboard down and turns to Zayn with an expectant look. “What’d you do to him?”

It’s the first time that Zayn looks genuinely surprised, frowns and gasps, “ _me?_ What if he’s just an idiot?”

Niall looks at Louis and then back to Zayn and grins. “I’ll still blame you.”

Zayn throws his hands up but their whole exchange is playful, Niall smiling as he asks what happened.

“Louis fucked up his shoulder with the shift,” Zayn explains. Niall reaches out to Louis, waits until Louis nods before he prods gently at his shoulder. “I tried to tell him how he should roll his shoulders, but...we think he dislocated it.”

Niall whistles low, poking the sorest spot. Louis hisses, the pain is vivid enough he can feel his teeth sharpen a bit. Niall frowns at him. “You know we gotta pop it back, right,” he says. Louis grimaces, nods. “Do I get a lollipop after this?” he grits out and Niall laughs, loud and bright.

“Only if you don’t cry. And we don’t have lollipops. Only Milk-Bones.”

Zayn snorts and Niall rolls up the sleeves of his lab coat. “Can you hold him?” he asks to Zayn and Harry; Louis huffs a laugh, “I don’t think I need to be held down, guys--”

The three of them exchange a look, Zayn moving to Louis’s other side, placing his hand against his neck. “You ever shift because of pain, Louis?” he asks gently. Louis shakes his head no. Zayn hums, moves his hand down to grasp Louis’s arm. “It’s not fun. So.”

Louis huffs a breath and just nods and Niall moves closer, explaining that he’s going to force Louis’s shoulder back into the socket but Louis isn’t listening, tries to just keep his eyes on Harry to his left.

“On three, okay,” Niall says, hands warm against Louis’s aching shoulder and Louis tries to breathe, stares hard at Harry as Niall counts _one_ and then he’s seeing red, pain radiating from his right shoulder all the way through his hands, his chest, feels like he’s going to shift if it wasn’t for Zayn’s hand at the back of his neck, grounding him. The pain ebbs seconds later, feels like a century and he’s panting, Niall stepping back and eyeing him carefully until Zayn mutters _he’s good_. Louis has to blink hard a few times, buries his head in Harry’s shoulder and they’re all quiet, for a while. When Louis picks his head back up, Niall’s holding out a lollipop and a hand, grinning. “I’m Niall, by the way.”

:::

Louis texts Liam a quick _sorry, bro, can’t make it today_ and pauses. He doesn’t feel like he owes Liam an explanation, exactly, but. _i think i’m coming down with something_ is what he sends next, just...so Liam doesn’t think he’s copping out, or something. Not that it was a date.

He never gets a reply from Liam, sets his phone to vibrate and prepares to burrow down and hibernate until he stops aching. He’s just about to fall asleep when the doorbell rings, shrill and sharp in his ears and Louis whines, sounds too much like an animal and he curls under his blanket, for a moment. Everything amplifies, his phone buzzing on the desk and the cars going by outside, finally snarls to himself and sits up, shuffles downstairs to the door. 

“Look, whatever it is--” he starts as he swings open the door to see Liam fucking Payne standing on his doorstep holding a plastic bag and grinning sheepishly.

“Oh, man, you look like hell,” is the first thing Liam says, smile dwindling down to a stern frown. He raises the plastic bag like a peace offering. “Can I come in?” and what choice does Louis have, but to let him.

“I make a chicken noodle soup that could cure cancer,” Liam says cheerfully as he moves into the house, makes a beeline for the kitchen. By the time Louis shuffles into the room Liam’s dumped the contents of his bag onto the table, cold medicine, cans of soup, ice packs, a bag of M&M’s and six pack of orange juice. “I didn’t know what kind of sick you were, so…” he waves a hand over all of the items. “I figured, since you’re still getting settled and all, you probably didn’t have, like, medicine stuff.”

Louis doesn’t know what to say. He sinks into one of the chairs and Liam’s already poking around the kitchen looking for a pot, doesn’t know how to tell him _chicken noodle soup can’t cure lycanthropy, I can’t eat chocolate, I’m not even going to be in this body in twenty four hours_. His stomach rumbles, though.

“Lou, I promise I know how to operate a stove and soup,” Liam laughs when he sees Louis gaping at him, “you should probably go lie down, or something, though.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Louis snaps and feels bad about it almost immediately, buries his face in his blanket so he doesn’t have to see the look of hurt that’s probably on Liam’s face. When he finally looks up Liam is laughing, shaking his head and stirring a can of soup into a pot. “You haven’t really changed at all, have you?”  he asks, glancing over his shoulder at Louis, who bares his teeth at him half-playfully.

“I put up with your bullying for ten years of my youth, Tommo. You’re all bark and no bite,” Liam sighs back and Louis barks a laugh, rubs his face. “Yeah, yeah. I’m going to go lie down, doc.”

He flumps down onto the couch and cocoons himself in his blankets, the remote too far away to change the channel and this is how Louis Tomlinson, former NYC resident turned werewolf terror of Lake Placid, NY, ends up eating chicken noodle soup on the couch, watching HGTV with his childhood best friend. How is this his life.

:::

It’s his first full moon shift since moving here and it’s hellish. He snapped at Zayn when he first turned and Harry had to keep the two of them from fighting, Louis eventually prowling off into the woods and the two of them had to spend the rest of the night following him, making sure he didn’t run into the road or get hurt. When he wakes up human, Zayn’s already standing over him, holding a blanket out. Zayn looks down at him, sighs like he did that first day he saw Louis change in the woods. He looks exhausted. “Alright, babe. Let’s go.”

And this is how they end up in Coff E Bean at six in the morning, Louis wearing clothes that aren’t his with Zayn and Harry telling the waitress _the usual_. Louis puts his head down on the bar, buries his face in the sleeves of Harry’s hoodie he’s wearing. Zayn leaves a hand at the small of Louis’s back and they’re all quiet until the waitress comes back, three plates of belgian waffles and a tray of fruit smoothies. Harry takes his plate right away, cutting into the waffles and strawberries with a methodical preciseness but Zayn doesn’t touch his yet, doesn’t take his hand away from Louis’s back. “Louis, you should eat.”

Louis picks his head up and rubs his eyes, looking out over the lake. There’s the skid of a plate sliding towards him and when he looks over Harry is licking whipped cream off his knife and Louis’s waffles are cut in the same pattern that Harry’s are. Zayn slides one of the smoothies over and claps Louis on the back of the neck and Harry ruffles his hair. “You’re with us now, Lou,” Harry says quietly around his smoothie straw. “You’re alright.” It feels like the first real welcome he’s had since moving here.

:::

It’s warm enough that Louis wants to spend the day outside, walks all the way down the street to the old park and playground without shivering, feels solidly himself.

Liam’s there, because of course he is, surrounded by a gaggle of little kids in football gear on the field. Louis climbs to the top of the monkey bars and sits on top of them for a while, watching Liam across the field as he does his best to direct the twenty or so boys into lines. He’s wearing a Lake Placid Green Dragons shirt and has an honest to God whistle around his neck. Nothing about this surprises Louis, but it’s all still amusing to watch, Liam running the tiny players in drills and teaching them how to throw and catch, going from kid to kid to show them how to hold the ball properly. The whole opportunity is too good to pass up.

“Have you taught them tackling yet, Liam?” Louis yells as he jumps down from the monkey bars, jogging across the field, giving Liam a sharp grin. Liam looks caught somewhere between dread and amusement, mouth pulled into a pained smile.

“Who are you?” one of the kids demands. Louis grins, speaks up before Liam can, “I am Louis Tomlinson and I am your coach’s _best friend_ and I am here today to teach you how to tackle.”

“Coach Liam says we’re not allowed to tackle yet,” the kid pipes up. Louis does his best not to roll his eyes.

“He was saving that for me to show you,” Louis replies swiftly, clapping his hands together. “I was the one who taught Liam here _how_ to tackle, you know.” he looks up at Liam. “Shall I show you?”

Now Liam laughs loudly, opens his arms. “I’m not ten anymore, Lou. I’d like to see you try.”

Louis charges him, jumps to take him down like he did when they were kids but Liam doesn’t even move and Louis just collides with him, can’t get him to budge at all because Liam is an Actual Adult now which is something Louis didn’t exactly calculate into his plan.

“Tackle him, kiddies!” Louis shouts and then he’s got the support of twenty small children also tackling Liam and eventually he gets dragged to the ground, Louis rising to his feet victorious while Liam laughs, laying in the grass.

Louis is allowed to stay for the rest of practice but only if he stays on the sidelines. Liam promises they can go for drinks afterwards but practice is _boring_ , admiring Liam’s shoulder blades through his t-shirt loses its thrill after a while so Louis starts to poke through the duffel bag marked _COACH L. PAYNE_ instead. Ties three pairs of Liam’s sneakers together by the shoelaces and squirts Gatorade from his water bottle at Liam every time the coach jogs by. He doesn’t know if practice is really over or if Liam just ended it early due to Louis’s tormenting but either way Louis pops to his feet eagerly, shifting from foot to foot as the kids scatter to the parking lot and their parents cars. Liam comes to the sideline, snatches up his duffel bag. He smells sticky and sweet, like the Gatorade he’s damp with. “I have to shower,” he tells Louis with a frown, unsticking his t-shirt from his chest. Louis starts to pout but Liam holds up a hand, raising an eyebrow and giving Louis a stern look. “And it’s _your_ fault I have to shower, so don’t pull that shit.”

“You just _cursed_!” Louis squawks gleefully and Liam ignores him, calls back _ten minutes_ over his shoulder before disappearing into the little locker room building.

Louis sits back on the ground and pulls up all the grass around him while he waits. His jeans and hands are stained green when the locker room door opens again and Liam steps out, hair curling at his forehead from the water and his new black t-shirt clinging to his damp torso. Louis glares at him and Liam just smiles like he knows _exactly_ what he’s doing. “So,” he calls as he pads back over to Louis, wearing jeans and timberland boots and looking nothing like the nice youth football coach of twenty minutes ago, “did you enjoy watching practice?”

“Yup,” Louis quips back, jumping to his feet. He reaches up and sprinkles his handful of grass into Liam’s hair. “Maybe I’ll come help you coach every week,” he calls over his shoulder as they start walking towards the parking lot. Liam mutters _please don’t_ and Louis hears it from twenty feet ahead of him. He laughs all the way to the car.

  
:::

The house is lit like a beacon when Louis comes to and maybe that’s what draws him to it, still has enough of a brain to zip up his hoodie, stumble around to the front door.

“Louis?” Liam asks, looking surprisingly awake for seven in the morning, bathrobe hanging loose around his chest and a thermos in one hand. “Are you...what’s wrong?”

Louis can only manage a grumble and a shrug, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his hoodie, worried that his fingers still feel too sharp. “Can I use your phone?”

Liam already has the door wide open, mutters _of course_ as he waves Louis in. Liam’s house is warm and soft and Louis feels like he could sink right into the floor, leans against the doorframe instead as Liam hands him the cordless home phone. If Liam sees Louis’s hands shaking he doesn’t say anything, just turns back into the kitchen where he’s got a skillet warming up. Louis sulks down the hallway, taps out Zayn’s number.

“Can you come get me,” Louis breathes into the phone and Zayn replies with a sigh of relief, and hears keys jingling in the background already. “Yeah. You know where you are?” And it’s understood _it’s too cold outside, I don’t feel safe_. Louis doesn’t have to say it but the weight in Zayn’s voice suggests that he already knows.

Louis hesitates, but eventually tells Zayn the address and Zayn just hums, asks, “you’re sure you’re okay now?” And Louis tells him yes. Zayn promises to be by in twenty minutes.

“You want breakfast or something?” Liam calls tentatively down the hall and Louis starts, almost drops the phone. “Uh. Uhh?” he struggles, shuffles back into the kitchen and stifles at all the smells, coffee, eggs, bacon. “Just...bacon? Bacon.” he pauses, sets the phone back in its cradle. “Coffee?” he adds as an afterthought, _that’s what normal people have for breakfast, right? Coffee and bacon?_

Liam slides him the plate of meat and flicks the coffee maker back on, goes about his morning as if he doesn’t have a dirty, barefoot Louis standing in his kitchen.

Zayn shows up fifteen minutes later, Liam’s doing the dishes and Louis hasn’t moved from his spot on the barstool.

“Zayn’s here,” Louis says quietly when he hears the car engine pull up outside and Liam turns, asks, “Come again?” and then the doorbell rings. Liam answers and Louis can feel the cold air from the open front door even from the kitchen, shudders and pulls his sweater tighter around himself. When he looks up into the front hallway, Zayn’s standing in the mudroom, giving Louis a sympathetic look.

“I’m sorry about this,” Zayn tells Liam earnestly as he makes his way into the kitchen, wraps an arm around Louis’s shoulders and Louis immediately feels less shaky. “Someone has a habit of wandering off after too many shots,” Zayn jokes swiftly and Liam replies with a short laugh, a tight smile. He doesn’t believe Zayn.

“I’ve already got the car all warmed up for you,” Zayn tells Louis as he gets him to his feet. They both thank Liam as he walks them to the door. Liam watches from the porch as Zayn ushers Louis quickly into the car, its interior a wall of warmth. The temperature gauge on the dashboard says it’s ten degrees outside. Zayn gives Liam a friendly wave and they pull away from the house. Zayn waits until Louis has stopped shivering before he breathes, “Liam’s a good dude.”

“Yeah,” is all that Louis can grit out through his clenched teeth. Zayn echoes _yeah_ and then they’re quiet the rest of the way back to Louis’s house.

:::

“Liam was at the library yesterday,” Zayn mumbles around his cigarette, glancing at Louis out of the corner of his eye and Louis does his best to keep a straight face, just keeps picking at his hangnail and Zayn continues. “He was picking up books on moon phases, the geography and climate of north country forests.” When Louis looks over, Zayn is squinting at him. “Is he going to find out?”

Louis’s finger is bleeding and he curses under his breath, sticks his thumb in his mouth. Zayn knows that he’s stalling, waits patiently for an answer. He’s almost to the butt of his cigarette when Louis finally replies. “I don’t know. I haven’t said anything about myself.”

Zayn hums and flicks his cigarette onto the concrete, rests his elbows on his knees and turns to Louis with his chin in his hands. “Do you want him to find out?”

Louis...doesn’t have an answer to that. There’s a million things that could go wrong with that. Louis buries his face in his hands for a moment. There’s a million things that could go right with it, too.

“Yeah,” he finally replies, tries not to smile too much but he can hardly contain himself. “Liam...Liam could know.”

:::

Louis stands in Liam’s doorway and feels more out of place than he ever has anywhere in his life. The moon isn’t completely full but he still feels like he could vibrate out of his skin any second, tugging his sleeves down over his fists. Skulks into the room and sinks onto the foot of the bed. Liam and his books are sprawled across the top of the mattress, Liam chewing on the end of a pen, hardly looks up when Louis sits but mutters something about _this class is gonna kill me_ , frowns around the pen cap. Louis inches forward, pushes Liam’s econ textbook gently out of the way so he can look at Liam’s notebook, upside down, a doodle of a turtle in the margin. Louis can’t focus. The page is blurry and the only thing Louis can latch his skittering brain onto is how warm Liam is.

“What’s with the feather, Liam,” Louis asks. He feels drunk, being this close to him. He reaches out and takes Liam’s hand, turns it palm-up so he can run a finger down the spine of the feather tattooed on his forearm. Liam huffs a soft laugh and when Louis looks up at him, he’s blushing. “Couldn’t really tell you, to be honest. Just thought it was neat.”

Louis hums. He’s leaning forward before he knows what he’s doing, just needs to make more contact with skin, tilts his head down until Liam looks up, touches Louis’s forehead with his own.

It feels like Liam wants to say something, but doesn’t, just stares at Louis until Louis closes his eyes, focuses on breathing. It’s the most human he’s felt in ages, feels solid and warm and lets out a small sigh before he can help it, shifts his head closer and then he feels Liam’s breath on his face. Louis could kiss him right now. He could.

“What are you doing, Lou?” Liam whispers, and that’s such a loaded fucking question, isn’t it. Something twists in his gut and Louis gasps, pulls back and scrambles off the bed panting, no way in hell he’s going to turn into a wolf here in Liam’s bedroom, manages to grunt out, “I’ve gotta go,” before he ducks out of the bedroom, out of the house.

He’s bent over on the sidewalk at the end of the street, hands on his knees trying to catch his breath, praying that Liam can’t see him from his bedroom window. It takes him ten minutes before he’s sure that he can make it home without bursting out of his skin.

:::  
Liam has a bird feeder in his backyard. It looks like a homemade contraption, a little house made of wood and plastic sitting on a wooden stake in the middle of the yard. It seems like the squirrels have taken over the feeder, though, figured out pretty quickly that it’s easy to climb and get to the sunflower seeds and feed up in the little house. Louis has been watching the hierarchy unfold for ten minutes through the thick of the brush at the edge of Liam’s yard. There’s a metal bird bath across the yard from the feeder and the robins and chickadees have been flitting around the bath anxiously for a while while the squirrels scurry up and down the feeder. Louis wants to _chase_. He sinks onto his haunches in a bow, tail wagging slowly in the air while he picks out a target, a squirrel on the lowest shelf of the feeder. He can almost hear Zayn’s disapproving growl in his ears. He goes for it, anyway.

It turns out, unfortunately, that the bird feeder isn’t as sturdy as it looks. It tilts as soon as Louis barrels into the post, the squirrels falling and jumping to the ground and scurrying off in a panic, so Louis goes for the birdbath next. He knocks it over easily and the birds disappear into the trees and the backyard is a muddy, sunflower seed-covered disaster. Louis gives a satisfied huff at his handiwork before retreating back into the woods to find Zayn and Harry.

:::This happens two more times, Liam repairing and restocking his feeder and bath each time without fail, then Louis fucks them up again. The second time, Liam sees him. They make eye contact through the kitchen window and Liam rushes to the glass sliding door, looks like he’s considering coming outside to shoo Louis away but he thinks better of it, just watches helplessly on as Louis rears up to put his front paws on the bird bath, takes a few laps of water before he knocks it over and scampers off into the forest.

:::

“Have you ever seen any wolves around here?” Liam asks at the pub one night. Louis almost chokes on his drink. Liam doesn’t really react, just keeps fiddling with his napkin, “I’ve never seen them, not even when I was little, but I’ve heard that sometimes there’s packs that come down from Canada. Anyway. There was a...well, I don’t know if it was a wolf, or a coyote, or what. Maybe just a dog. But he’s been fucking up my yard.”

“Really,” Louis deadpans, staring hard at Liam and doing his best not to smile. Liam’s brow is creased and he shrugs. “I saw him, the other day. From the kitchen. Son of a bitch looked me right in the eye and knocked over my birdbath.”

Louis snorts into his glass, tells Liam through his laughter, “maybe because your birdbath is stupid as fuck, Liam.”

Liam ignores this, reaching across the bar for a handful of peanuts. “Do you think I should call, like, animal control? Or, or like. Does the vet know anything about wolves, do you think?”

Louis waves a hand, still laughing, “Yeah, do that, Liam. Call the vet, he might be able to help you.”

:::

“Apparently,” Liam starts the next time they’re hanging out. Liam volunteered to come over and help Louis paint his living room. At the moment, Liam’s covered in green paint and Louis is sitting in a lawnchair in the middle of his living room, drinking a beer. “The vet--his name’s Niall-- says that my wolf --” (and Louis’s heart flips at that, _my wolf_ ) “-- is a local pain in the ass. The vet seemed like he knows that wolf well, told me that sometimes he helps out the wildlife conservation with injured...wildlife, I guess.”

Louis hums around the neck of his beer bottle, waving a hand at the wall. “You missed a spot.”

Liam goes over the faded spot on the wall with his roller, swipes an arm across his forehead and continues. “Anyway. He said if I can trap the wolf, or keep it in my yard somehow long enough, he volunteered to come over and, like. Sedate it. Or move it, somehow.” Liam laughs and it echoes around the empty room. Makes it feel not so empty anymore. “He seemed just as eager as I am to get rid of the thing.”

Louis makes a mental note to send Niall a personal _fuck you_ and cracks open another beer. “So? You gonna try it?”

Liam pauses to pour more of the hunter green paint into the tray at his feet. “It’s worth a shot, isn’t it? How exactly would you trap a wolf, though?”

Louis pouts as he considers it. “Steak?” (And yeah, if Liam left a full steak on his back deck, Louis would probably let himself get muzzled and sedated for that.)

Liam huffs a laugh and glances over his shoulder at Louis. He’s got a streak of paint on his neck. “You could come over and help, if you wanted? Wolf stakeout this weekend, I mean, if you’ve got nothing better to do.”

Louis strokes his chin thoughtfully. “You know what, I think I’m going to be busy this weekend.”

:::

Liam’s attempt to capture wolf Louis eventually gets around from Niall to Zayn who just shakes his head and sighs, tells Louis to make sure Liam isn’t some type of gun nut, and then mutters his usual threat to move to Canada and leave Harry and Louis’s lovesick asses behind to fend to themselves.

Regardless, Louis finds himself crouched in Liam’s bushes that Saturday night, watching Liam slide open his backdoor. He smells it before he sees it, Liam lowering a plate with a raw t-bone steak to the ground, just before the first step on his deck. Liam stands up, casts a look around the edges of his yard before he goes back inside. Louis sees him watching out of his kitchen window.

He lets Liam sweat it out a while. Doesn’t know how serious Niall was about coming over to muzzle and sedate Louis, but part of him doesn’t doubt that Niall would do it in a heartbeat. He goes for it, anyway.

Louis trots out of the woods, walks up to the deck and snatches up the steak, darting into the middle of the yard and pointedly knocking over the birdbath. He can hear Liam exclaiming from inside, moving around the house and Louis lays in the middle of Liam’s yard and gnaws on the steak patiently.

Liam bursts out of the back door wearing a football helmet and holding a fishing net. He stops short on the deck, his face a mix of terror and false bravery and the sight is so fucking funny that Louis drops the steak, a howl of laughter that racks his whole body. He laughs hard enough that it shakes him out of the wolf, ends up laying on the ground cackling and Liam drops the net, deadpans, “what the fuck.”

Louis rolls over and stands up and Liam repeats _what the fuck_ even louder followed by, “ _Louis_?” as he takes off the helmet.

“Don’t….don’t call Niall,” Louis wheezes through his laughter, picking up one of the jackets draped over the railing of Liam’s deck, “Don’t call Niall, he was seriously going to muzzle me.”

Liam looks a little overwhelmed, blushes when he realises that Louis is naked and averts his eyes to his decimated bird bath. “What do I do?” Liam mutters, scrubs a hand over his face and waves a hand towards his door. “Do you want to come inside? And get, like. Um. Clothes?”

Louis smiles cheerfully, picks up the bloody steak and plate and hops onto the deck. “I thought you’d never ask.”

:::

He stays at Liam’s that night for dinner and afterwards, Liam disappearing upstairs to shower to get ready for bed while Louis dozes on the couch. He doesn’t know why it happens but he’s shaking out of his skin before he’s fully awake, nails cutting into his palm when he falls off of the couch and he thinks, for an awful second, that he’s not going to make it. Can see his hand on the lightswitch but it doesn’t feel like a hand anymore, stumbles blindly through the house until he’s at the sliding backdoor. He hears Liam coming down, his footsteps on the hardwood like a heartbeat but Louis is already outside, falling onto all fours. Liam reaches the deck too late, Louis unfolding on the grass and coming up snarling. Liam knows his limits.

Stands barefoot on the frozen wooden deck, watching Louis steadily, and Louis’s ears eventually perk back up, something on the other side of his brain telling him _he’s not a threat_. Liam lingers at the door and Louis lingers in the backyard for a few minutes but he can’t find it in himself to change back. Makes his way home in the morning, his cell phone still abandoned on the kitchen table where he left it the day before. There’s only one rambling message from Liam waiting, sent last night after Louis had left, _i hope you don’t think im scared or you or something because im not, i would have let you back inside but ive never even seen a wolf up close before. you can come back over whenever you want and we can talk about it, if you want, i want to understand, i have questions. my first question is why did you terrorize my backyard birds ? you scared them all away ):_

:::

Zayn’s warned Louis about the woods north of Long Pond before, nothing but hunters and sometimes black bears that far north of the town but today Louis just wants to _run_. And it’s not exactly like he can fucking read as a wolf, too busy darting after a rabbit that he ran right past the trail entrance to Connery and Long Pond.

  
He smells the sharp tang before anything else and it doesn’t make any sense out here, not to this brain. But the _pain_ makes sense to this brain, shoots up his leg so fast that he snarls, whips around to try and find the source of it but there’s nothing, just a hot wound in his hind leg.

He makes it back to Liam’s house, the only bright, familiar patch in the dark forest. He’s stumbles onto the deck, scratches at the backdoor and lets out a pitiful whimper. He sees the kitchen light flick on just before he blacks out.

He’s human when he comes to and the pain jolts him awake first, whimpering _fuck_ before he even opens his eyes and everything feels too sharp, like he could change back any second. And then there’s footsteps, a nervous heartbeating in the room and when Louis opens his eyes Liam is hovering over him holding a bloody dish towel.

“Lou, what the fuck happened, we have to get you to a hospital--”

Louis doesn’t trust himself to speak, but manages to shake his head, sits up enough to see his calf wrapped in gauze and he gives Liam a bewildered look.

“You were on my deck bleeding, I think you got shot when you were...you’ve been out for twenty minutes, you made me swear to not call an ambulance. You told me to call Zayn. He’s coming over now.”

Louis doesn’t have any recollection of this but he doesn’t doubt that it happened, reaches out and is surprised to see that his fingers are very much human, just as red as Liam’s towel is. He prods experimentally at the wound and hisses, falls back onto the couch and has to catch his breath.

Louis can hear Zayn’s car outside, two pairs of footsteps then the door opens. Liam’s on his feet, going into the hall to greet Harry and Zayn and explain what happened, doesn’t waste any time _he showed up on my deck last night as...as a wolf? And when I got him inside he changed back, he was bleeding, I think he’s been shot, there’s hunters north of the river this weekend, he said I needed to call you and then he passed out--_

 _\--we need to get him to Niall_ , Zayn says, cutting Liam off and Louis can almost see the surprise, confusion on Liam’s face.

_Niall?_

_Niall Horan. The clinic off Cascade--Harry, go check on Lou--_

_\--Clinic? That’s a veterinary hospital, Zayn, he has to go to a_ real _hospital…_ then Harry rounds the corner into the room, gives Louis a tight smile as he approaches. Places a hand on Louis’s shoulder and Louis leans into the touch, closes his eyes again while Harry examines his leg.

“You’re okay?” Harry asks slowly, softly, “you’re definitely here? The pain’s not--”

“I’m me,” Louis breathes back and Harry seems to believe him, nods solemnly. Zayn and Liam are still bickering when they come into the room but Zayn shuts up as soon as he sees Louis, immediately joins Harry in helping Louis off the couch.

“Can you drive?” Harry asks Liam and Liam seems struck by their sudden authority over him, just nods dumbly and grabs his keys off the counter. Zayn has to calmly tell Liam four times to keep his eyes on the road because he keeps nervously glancing into the backseat where Louis has his head on Zayn’s chest. It’s ten minutes to the clinic and Niall is waiting for them in the lobby, locks the front door behind them and leads them to the back labratory.

“Sit,” Niall demands, patting a steel table and Louis doesn’t have it in him to make a dog joke, just lifts himself as best he can onto the table and Niall disappears into a back room for a moment. Zayn is standing in front of the lobby door with his arms crossed and Harry is poking at a jar of syringes, keeps glancing nervously over his shoulder at Louis. Liam never leaves Louis’s side.

Liam hovers until Niall has to usher him out of the way, sets a tray of steel instruments onto the counter next to the table.

“I guess I don’t have to tell you this is going to hurt,” he mutters and Louis gives him a half-hearted smile, but it’s short-lived, pain tingling up his leg when Niall lays a hand on it.

“Liam,” Zayn murmurs. Louis has his back to the two of them and can’t see whatever exchange happens between them but Liam’s crossing the room seconds later. Louis can feel his presence behind him and leans back, his shoulderblades settling against Liam’s torso and he lets himself exhale.

“The bullet’s still…” Niall mutters but it sounds like he’s mostly talking to himself, “that’s why it’s not healing.”

Louis watches Niall pick up a pair of forceps but as soon as the cool metal touches the flushed skin of his calf he can’t bring himself to look, turns his face away into Liam’s chest.

Niall works methodically, only pausing twice when Louis lets out a pained noise and he steps back, looking across the room at Zayn until Zayn nods, sure that Louis isn’t going to wolf out before he proceeds in stitching up Louis’s leg.

“I don’t have any lollipops this time,” Niall says regrettably when he finally snips the thread of Louis’s last stitch. Louis lets out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding and it turns into a laugh, his face still buried in the front of Liam’s hoodie. Zayn comes over to look at Louis’s leg and eventually turns his gaze up to Liam. Louis leans back into Liam’s chest and Liam finally puts his arms around Louis, pats his torso with a palm and Zayn’s mouth twitches. Looks over at Harry and it’s a look that Louis knows well, one that Zayn and Harry have whenever they’re having a silent conversation about Louis.

“Thank you,” Zayn finally says to Liam and Louis can feel his arms tightening around him. Liam nods solemnly back to Zayn and Niall snorts a laugh as he dumps the bloodied instruments into the sink.

“Look at you guys,” he laughs while shrugging his jacket on, “a real rag-tag wolfpack.”

:::

Liam leaves the back door unlocked now out of habit, a small pile of clothes left outside on the porch swing but that’s really all that Liam could do, leave the doors unlocked and the lights on and wait until Louis finds his way back. Some nights he’d come home earlier than others but those nights it would take him longer to come back to himself. Liam takes it all in stride, makes breakfast when Louis lingers at the kitchen counter or stays with him on the couch until Louis finds his voice again.

It’s three degrees outside and a full moon. Liam isn’t expecting him home for a while, stands at the window for an hour after midnight waiting before he retreats to the couch. He leaves every light on and the TV lulls him to sleep with some infomercial. Almost can’t believe he’s laying on a couch in a warm house watching an ad for a toaster while his best friend is running around in the woods. 

Liam doesn’t know what time it is when he hears the back door slide open. It’s early enough that the sun is starting to turn the sky gray through the slits in the blinds and it hurts and Liam squints, turns over on the couch to see Louis slinking through the door, tripping into a pair of sweatpants. Liam’s expecting Louis to come over like he usually does, can feel the cold morning air seeping through the open door before he hears Louis close it. Then the house is silent for a while, long enough that Liam starts to slip back to sleep.

He feels Louis moving through the room after a bit, that thickness in the air when someone is trying to fit into the space around you without taking up too much room, like they don’t belong. Louis hovers over the couch long enough that Liam cracks an eye open. Louis is crouched over him, looking hesitant to crawl onto the couch like he usually does. Liam rolls onto his back, holding up the blanket he’s wrapped in and hums his invitation for Louis to join him.

Something flickers across Louis’s face, and then it’s gone as he lowers himself to lay between Liam and the back of the couch. He’s shirtless and his hair is hopefully rumpled, warm to the touch like he’s running a fever but Liam draws the blanket around the two of them anyway. Louis sighs against Liam’s chest.

Liam’s falling back asleep when he feels Louis shifting against him, mouth tipping up timidly like he’s about to kiss Liam but when he tilts his head down Louis winces, drops his face into Liam’s chest, lips brushing against his collarbone there instead. Louis’s hands are firm and warm against Liam’s stomach, the only thing that’s keeping him awake. He’s almost certain that Louis can feel Liam’s heart jackrabbiting against his ribs.

“Hey,” Liam finally breathes before he can lose his nerve and Louis hums, cocks his head up curiously and Liam surges the few inches forward, catches Louis’s mouth in a slow, warm kiss that Louis immediately responds to, humming low in his throat and pressing himself closer to Liam. Louis’s fingers stutter against Liam’s hip and Liam freezes, for a second, doesn’t know what that means or if Louis is okay but Louis just chases Liam’s mouth, fingers stilling as soon as they start kissing again.

:::

Louis is sleeping on Liam’s chest but Liam can’t sleep, keeps his fingers against his lips and one hand in Louis’s hair. He’s restless, manages to disentangle himself from Louis when the sun gets too bright through the windows, escapes to the kitchen to start breakfast and clear his head.

Liam’s too wrapped up in making breakfast to hear Louis getting up, the smaller man padding silently into the kitchen and then Liam feels Louis’s hands around his waist, his face between his shoulderblades. “Hey,” Liam murmurs and Louis just hugs him tighter, Liam feels him mouthing at his shoulder through his t-shirt and then Louis bites him gently, enough for Liam to gasp and turn and then Louis kisses him. And this time it’s exactly how Liam expected Louis to kiss, sharp and blunt, bites his lip just before he pulls away smiling wickedly, more awake than Liam has seem him in weeks. “What’s for breakfast?” he asks, tugging the blanket tighter around his shoulders and tripping backwards into one of the breakfast bar stools. Liam turns and looks at him for a while. A scruffy, sleep-warm Louis Tomlinson curled up in a Star Wars blanket, asking what’s for breakfast after a night of running around the upstate forests. Werewolf or not, Liam had almost forgotten what a goddamn menace Louis Tomlinson was.

:::

Louis stays at Liam’s all day. Takes him ten minutes to figure out Liam’s showerhead, his bathroom set up in a clearly particular way and Louis only spends twenty minutes in the shower because he moves all of Liam’s bottles around, soap and razors and body wash and shampoo. Helps himself to Liam’s drawers afterwards and stands in the middle of Liam’s bedroom, for a moment, face buried in the sleeve of a hoodie. There’s still hints of the old Liam in here, like he hasn’t changed at all, the same NY Giants Superbowl 1990 poster from when he was little, a _Raiders of the Lost Ark_ movie poster. There’s a shelf of trophies above his dresser, little league baseball and more recent football awards, high school diploma, framed photos of his friends and parents at prom, graduation. And Louis wasn’t here for any of it. His chest aches.

The TV’s on when he goes downstairs, Liam looks like he’s falling asleep, one hand cradling his cheek where he’s sprawled on the couch. “Hey,” he grumbles, rubbing his eyes and sitting up when he sees Louis come into the room. “Do you need… can I get you--?”

“Liam,” Louis laughs, shaking his head, “chill out. You can nap, or something. You didn’t have to stay up for me, you know.”

Liam mutters something incoherent when he rubs his face and Louis raises his eyebrows. “What was that, Payne?”

“I said, last time I took a nap with you in the room, you drew a penis on my face.”

Louis’s mouth twitches. “Last time you took a nap with me in the room we were also, like, ten.”

“And I’m supposed to believe you’ve really matured, now?” Liam challenges and Louis just shrugs. “I’m going to go smoke,” he says in reply, already sidling out the back door.

(Liam does eventually take a nap. And, inevitably, he wakes up with a penis drawn on his cheek.)

Liam asks about it when he’s making them dinner, stirring pasta into a pot with his back to Louis and maybe that’s the easiest way to bring up these questions. “Does it hurt? When you…”

“Not anymore,” Louis replies, shrugging even though Liam doesn’t see it. “At first, it did. Zayn and Harry, uh. They kind of taught me how to help it. I did dislocate my shoulder once, though.”

Liam winces and turns around, face pulled into a sympathetic grimace. “I’ve dislocated mine. Sophomore year, during a scrimmage. Fucking rough.”

Louis nods and raps his fingers against the countertop, waiting for the next question. It comes a few moments later, when Liam is taking a jar of sauce out of the fridge, “is that why you moved home, really?”

Louis hums his reply, nodding when Liam glances over at him.

“Is it just the full moon? Because that night you got shot…”

Louis shakes his head, doesn’t really have an answer for this one. “Zayn says it’s always the full moon but also, like, if it’s cold enough? He and Harry have been trying to figure it out for years, but he thinks it’s temperature related. And pain, maybe. We can turn on command though, too.”

“Are you still, like. Yourself? When you change? Or do you get all…” Liam crooks his hand into a claw and twitches his face into a snarl. It makes Louis laugh and he stands up, goes around the island and moves to sit on the counter next to the stove where Liam’s cooking.

“No. You’re just kind of, like, reduced down to your instincts. I can still recognize people, places.” He grins and Liam glances up at him, inches away from his face now, “Why do you think I kept ending up in your backyard?”

Liam swallows, eyes flicking up and down Louis’s face like he’s trying to decide if Louis is lying or not. “You remember me?”

Louis shrugs, dipping his finger into the pot of tomato sauce. “I don’t think I could ever forget you, really.”

:::

They watch _The Wolfman_ that night at Liam’s request. He sits on the couch with a bowl of popcorn and Louis starts out sitting in the middle of the living room floor, immediately pointing out every inaccuracy and by the middle of the movie he ends up squished next to Liam on the couch.

Liam sneaks a hand over experimentally, resting it on the back of Louis’s neck and the man leans into the touch without missing a beat, explaining the reality of changing on the full moon. And then Liam understands it, now. Louis the type of kid who tortures the hell out of the boy he has a crush on but now it’s something more, when Louis touches him. He doesn’t know if it’s a werewolf thing or what but there’s something about every single time Louis touches him. If it’s a quick hug or a lingering fingertip or kicking him in the shin it means something, comfort and consistency that they had as kids but now it’s something more intimate. They’ve always known each other like this and the werewolf thing doesn’t make it any different.

:::

A month later it’s all five of them in Liam’s backyard, Zayn and Harry and Louis still freshly human and hovering around Niall, who tries to fend them away from the burgers on the grill with his spatula and Liam stoking a campfire. Harry reads them awful horror stories from some old library book and by the end Zayn is laughing and Niall is protesting that centaurs are probably real, somewhere, Canada maybe. Louis is grinning around the rim of his mug, leaning back into Liam’s chest and he catches Zayn’s eye, smiles even wider.

“If you had told me a year ago I’d be back here…” Louis mutters into the collar of Liam’s sweater and he feels Liam shuddering with laughter, replies, “glad you are, though,” and Louis just hums back, “yeah.”

“Look at ‘em,” Niall sighs dramatically, fluttering his eyelashes and clutching his chest as he looks at Louis and Liam, “our two little loves,” and Harry swats him upside the head.

Louis points his marshmallow-coated stick at Niall menacingly. “Find your own werewolf lover, Horan,” he growls but can’t quite keep the smug smile from creeping onto his face. “This one’s mine.”

Liam scoffs but tightens his arms around Louis, sneaking a kiss to the side of his head as Harry starts another scary story despite groans of protest from Zayn and Niall. It’s the first night they sit outside for hours and Louis’s hands don’t shake. Enveloped in Liam’s warmth and he doesn’t miss the city at all. Here, he can see the stars and it’s almost spring. He decides, then, that he’s going to stay.

**Author's Note:**

> my inspo tag for this fic is [here](http://http://foxesmouth.tumblr.com/tagged/wwt). (wwt= werewolf trash. I know, okay. I know.)  
> come say hi!


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